


A Glass Castle (General Hux x Reader)

by SilentWanderlust



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWanderlust/pseuds/SilentWanderlust
Summary: You cope with your sudden emotional turmoil through physical destruction.





	A Glass Castle (General Hux x Reader)

The hall rang with the sounds of mayhem. Pewter goblets and fine glassware shattered as you heaved them against the wall. Wine and water splattered across the floor like a murderous melody playing before your eyes.

Grabbing a wooden chair to your right, you threw it on the grand dining table. It collided with the centerpiece, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Glass and wood shards sprayed through the air. You threw chair after chair around the room until overturned seating encircled the entire space.

Heaving hard through what little lung capacity remained after your original tirade, you searched for a new target. You found it in the stained glass window leading to the garden.

Gripping hard on the clasps securing the oversized windows, you tugged, slipping on the wet flooring as you pulled. The window popped free, inviting the chilly fall breeze inside. A rainbow of leaves swarmed the room, sinking into the wine, crumbling to pieces.

You slammed your foot on the remnants of leaves before turning your sites to the grand golden curtains. The swayed listlessly in the breeze, flowing like a dancer on stage.

Leaping onto the window seat, you wrapped your body around the curtain and heaved. Again and again your tugged but it wouldn’t burst free. You gripped the tangle of material. The rough stitching tickled your bare skin, forming a mosaic of minuscule slits across your body.

Dropping to your knees on the cushiony seat, you released a wracking sob as you threw your arms in front of you. Your bare knees scraped the windowsill, ripping skin like a wilting flower. Your body rejected the physical pain in favor of the emotional turmoil.  

Falling to your side, you curled into a ball, staring, unseeing, into the room. Numbness streaked through your veins, beginning in your heart and chilling you to the tips of your fingers and toes.

The massive dining room halls scraped against the tile as they opened. You knew it was him; nobody else would dare interrupt you now. The servants would know better than to look at you in this moment.

“Get out, Armitage,” Your voice crackled through your throat. The chill in the room seeped back down through you and you closed your mouth, blocking out the elements.

“How were you certain it was me?” Armitage’s boots sloshed through the pools of discarded drink, glass, and mushy leaves. The foliage continued to spin into the room, covering your form in dirt and twigs.

“Because I would murder the servants if they came near me just like I murder everything.” Grime and tears coated your face and you rubbed them into your eyes, enjoying the visceral sting. “You’re also the only one brave enough to come after me.”

“You are not a murderer,” Armitage came closer, kicking the debris in his path.

You watched his sleek boots sully from your childish mess. But you had to destroy something in the moment, you yearned to burn the world down so you’d never experience this consuming pain again.

“I am,” You closed your eyes as Armitage stood beside you. His face was the last remnant of the life you could have had. “I’m a wrecking ball in a glass castle.”

“You are a bouncy ball at best,” Hux wiped the mess from the spot beside you and sat. Running his hands over your legs, he reached for your hand and held it tight. “Quit hyperbolizing.”

“I destroyed our dining room,” You turned your head to look up at your husband. Thin lines covered his face like he’d aged a millenium in a day. “And I murdered our child.”

“You most certainly did not,” Armitage frowned. “You miscarried.”

“Murdered.”

“It’s a natural bodily response to a nonviable pregnancy,” Armitage ran a thumb over your shaking fingers. You ripped your hand away and he sighed.

Armitage stood and scooped you up in his arms. The leaves and twigs building on your body toppled to the floor, sinking into the water. Foliage remained tangled in your wild hair but you had no energy to tear it away.

Your legs and arms hung limp in the air as Armitage carried you bridal style from your personal tornado. He moved slowly, ensuring he didn’t slip on the mess you created.

“How can you forgive me?” You whispered into his crisp uniform. “When I can’t forgive myself?”

The dirt from your body now clung to his pristine clothing but he paid it no mind.

Entering the hall, servants bowed and hurried away, pretending to busy themselves as they watched you. Armitage sent them horrifying stares, making them yelp and rush from the halls. They parted like a battering ram obliterating a line of soldiers.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Armitage dropped his head low, into your hair to speak reason. His wet boots squeaked against the tiled floor so he held you close as he spoke, ensuring you understood. “You have done nothing wrong.”

“My body and heart aren’t aligned,” Your eyes flutters as fresh, warm tears toppled down your dirty face. “My body betrayed me.”

“Your body acted as bodies do in this situation,” Armitage climbed the main staircase leading to your bedroom. “I am sure you are sore and exhausted. Please lay down with me. I will not have you hinder your own healing.”

The dull thud of renewed circulation overcame you at his words. Everything ached from your creaking neck to your tender feet. Being free of the pandemonium in the dining room brought a renewed sense of control over yourself.

“I don’t have the energy to argue with you,” Your words warbled as you stumbled through the sentence.

“Then stop speaking for now,” Armitage pushed open the bedroom doors with the tip of his boot, leaving a wet residue on the wood. The carpet squished under his step as he walked you to the bed. “There will be plenty of time to quarrel later.”

Carefully setting you down, he covered you in a mass of blankets. The warmth seeped into your pores, soothing your arching soul.

“You’ll stay with me?” You asked as Armitage pulled his soggy boots from his feet.

He sat on the side of the bed, watching you closely.

“Yes,” He ran a hand over his eyes, wiping away the ever-present exhaustion. Armitage bent over you to place a gentle kiss on your lips. He grazed the back of his fingers over your cheek, pulling the last of the twigs from your face. “Sleep.”

You smiled up at him as your mind clear and eyes closed. The last you saw of him before drifting into sleep was Armitage whispering words you couldn’t understand. But he was with you and that was enough.  


End file.
